Everyone has “angst” these days.  It is almost as common as indigestion. 

But does everyone really have angst?  Angst is not the same as anxiety or shpilkes or nerves. 

Angst is an existential dilemma — (i) is there a road I must follow to understand who and why I exist in the world and (ii) am I on that right road or the wrong road? 

Of course, you could have a nihilist existential dilemma of (i) how can I prove that there is no road to true understanding and (ii) if there is a such a road, how can I make sure I am another one — the one that leads me irreversibly into an abyss?

Or you could have angst with a side of fries.  It can even sound Jungian if you order it this way: “angst mit fries, bitte”.

But still the word, angst, is overused.  I have anxiety about the world, stress about work, worry about my son and shpilkes when I have to concentrate for 10 or more minutes.  And I can have all of these in one day, or even in one hour, and, still, it doesn’t add up to angst.

It does, however, make me crazy as a loon.